Protective Desire
by Clayton Kalle
Summary: For six different reasons, little Ezra's waiting is harder.


_**RATING**: PG  
**DISCLAIMER**: All rights belong to their rightful owners. This was written purely for entertainment and practice, not profit.  
**SUMMARY**: For six different reasons, Ezra's waiting is harder  
**WARNING**: This is a deathfic ;;_

* * *

**PROTECTIVE DESIRE**

Aside from the sound of papers being manhandled, pens scratching their surfaces as information and signatures were added, and personnel in differently colored scrubs making their way back and forth, the emergency room was as quiet as a graveyard, the silence to be disturbed by hot sighs and shaky breaths instead of the rustling of trees and tall, unattended grass, yet despite the calming silence, the lack of expected chaos seemed to have a negative effect on the group of anxious men.

The green eyes took in the scene before him, while short legs swung back and forth in the air; his feet not reaching the floor as he waited on the plastic chair: the men he had began to call uncles were scattered all around the waiting room -as if not to feed off each other's anxiety- most of them seated while the youngest kept on pacing, energy born out of fear and worry keeping him too high strung to sit still, limbs shaking and knees buckling whenever JD stopped, which forced him to walk in semi-circles around the chairs, arms indecisive in their position; at a moment they would be crossed, at another hanging limply by his sides.

If the constant movement bothered the rest, the child was not able to identify it as each of his uncles seemed to be in their own world, hearts beating frantically and stomach twisting in most unusual sensation; he knew that feeling too well and the boy wished he could make it stop, for all of them, but sitting there, legs swinging, he knew he would not be able to help his emotionally distraught family.

Licking his drying lips, the green eye focused on the man sitting next to him and Ezra had to look away from the gentle face of his eldest uncle; gone was the soft smile that deepened the wrinkles on the whiskered cheeks, instead the muscles were pulled in the wrong direction, a frown marring a face that only portrayed kindness and love. The pain and shock radiating from Josiah was too much for the child to handle, and Ezra jumped silently to his feet, hastily getting away from the big man to approach another with similar build.

Wedging his bottom to get into the chair, Ezra heaved a sigh when he got comfortable, his legs -once again- moving in the air, while he gently slid sideways, placing his weary head against a firm arm. The boy allowed his eyes to slide shut as he attempted to relax, but the rushed drumming of the man's heart agitated him, as the fast tapping of his foot got on his nerves. Tried, he sat straight and looked at the mustached face, his breath hitching at the familiar expression Buck wore; fear had paled the handsome face, worry bringing out foreign creases on the smooth forehead.

Unsure, Ezra looked at JD for some direction, but the young man was too engrossed in his activity to provide any assistance, and the child decided to go for the simplest action: a hand gently patting his uncle's face, a tight smile offered. When the man didn't respond to his reassurance, Ezra left his spot with a sigh.

Crossing his arms across his thin chest, the brunet followed his uncle JD in a semi-circle, wondering how the movement helped calm the young man's nerves, but growing tired and slightly dizzy with the circular motion, Ezra stopped when he faced the long-haired, solemn man for the third time. Landing ungracefully on his bottom, the boy scooted backward until he was leaning back against his uncle Vin's shins, who had his face buried in blood-marred hands, a barely visible tremble shaking his arms, despite supportive elbows digging into his knees.

The child threw his head back, pressing the top against the still legs as green eyes tried to look through red painted fingers and into the set of eyes that never failed to sparkle with mischief and affection, but he was unable to get a glimpse of the whiskered face, which was shielded from the current, unpleasant surroundings. Taking a shaky breath, Ezra drew his knees close to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and fitting his chin into the small gap between his joints.

Like his uncles, all he could do was to wait, wait and wait for any news on his father's condition. He could remember the massive amounts of blood despite the blinding lights, could remember the pained gasps and sobs even when the blaring horns were still screaming, he could still taste the pain.

So he waited, tense, yet comfortable in his position. Little fingers dug deeper into soft flesh as the minutes dragged on, seeming like painstakingly long hours of worrying and fearing, hearts overworking and wheels turning over possibilities and various scenarios, a lame attempt to steel emotions and nerves. He could smell their fear, touch their emotional wreckage as the stretching of time took its toll on hope and optimism.

It was the sound of rushed pace that gave him enough energy to jump to his small feet, eyes studying the dark skinned man as he approached the alert group, Ezra barely realizing that his uncles had stood up, as well. Nathan seemed to be agitated, yet his face did not give away anything other than the same emotions that battered the spirits of his other family members.

Weaving in his place, balancing on a different foot every few seconds, the child looked up anxiously at Nathan, who stood before everybody, uncomfortable and uneasy under the pleading gazes and hopeful faces. Quickly, he shook his head; he didn't have any news, not yet.

"They told me that the doctor should be here any minute, now."

It was ten minutes later when two doctors made their appearances, and the child was still unable to fathom a definite answer for the burning question they were all suffering from as he scanned the guarded expressions on both of their faces. He stood still this time, the wringing of a bloodied shirt the only outlet he allowed for his fear as he awaited the news.

"I'm Dr. Walker and this Dr. Ellen. I had been working on Mr. Larabee up until now and I'm pleased to tell you that -in time- he is going to make a full recovery, despite the multiple injuries he has sustained."

Ezra relaxed at the news, not needing to hear more, a smile gracing his bruised face as he realized that his father was going to make it, that his family was not going to be ripped away from him by the loss of Chris...

"As for the child, Ezra, I am awfully sorry. I am afraid he was not able to survive the severe trau-"

... for he would have hated to leave his uncles behind.


End file.
